


Hold Me in Your Arms

by amine



Series: Delinquent AU [6]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Awkward Romance, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hugs, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Touch-Starved, Trauma, touch averse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:13:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28563318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amine/pseuds/amine
Summary: "Arthur likes to be in control of situations. As long as he remains in control, he can get out before he starts to feel overwhelmed or trapped.Alfred’s desire for physical affection in their relationship, therefore, is disarming and terrifying."
Relationships: America/England (Hetalia)
Series: Delinquent AU [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/738078
Comments: 6
Kudos: 49





	Hold Me in Your Arms

**Author's Note:**

> Arthur's touch aversion/starvation are a result of trauma, thus the tags. This story doesn't go deep into that and is more about Arthur learning to love physical affection from Alfred, but I don't want to upset anyone either. :)

Arthur likes to be in control of situations. As long as he remains in control, he can get out before he starts to feel overwhelmed or trapped.

Alfred’s desire for physical affection in their relationship, therefore, is disarming and terrifying.

Kissing, sex, and maybe brushing fingers a little are all things he can control. Hugs and cuddling are terrifying because they mean that he’s trapped in Alfred’s arms and his control is gone. He’s at Alfred’s mercy, and that is something he can’t handle.

A brief hug is fine, because there isn’t enough time for the terror to set in, but he knows that Alfred wants more. It makes sense—it’s reasonable to want to hold and cuddle the person you’re in a relationship with. Arthur accepting certain positive things, like loving Alfred, has also meant accepting all the negative things he suppressed, like how much being trapped terrifies him.

He _wants_ it, though. He _wants_ to be able to do normal things with Alfred, like cuddle on the couch or be pinned beneath him during sex, and not feel like he’s suffocating and needs to escape. He can’t stop himself from seizing up when Alfred hugs him just a little too long, nor can he stop the panic from overtaking any pleasure from the physical contact.

Alfred keeps trying with him—keeps asking him if it’s okay to hold him, and Arthur always says yes. He likes to think that the amount of time that he is able to tolerate a hug keeps increasing, but he really can’t be sure.

One day, he’s the one to initiate, asking Alfred when he gets home from class.

“Will you hold me?”

Alfred looks delighted, and he wastes no time in gently pulling Arthur into his arms. For a few moments, Arthur just lets himself be held.

There’s far more to it than just the act of being held, though. There’s Alfred’s steady breathing, the rhythmic beat of his heart. Then there’s the more terrifying aspect of knowing that it’s really just a gentle expression of Alfred’s love because Alfred _loves_ him.

Still, that doesn’t stop the anxiety from bubbling up and clouding his thoughts with how something so gentle can very easily turn to something completely different—

_it’s happened before, it can happen again_

—and then he feels suffocated and trapped and the panic sets in. This is how easily his mind ruins this for him, clouding pleasant thoughts with dark ones and stealing his joy before he can actually experience it.

He doesn’t realize that he’s seized up again until Alfred is letting him go and pulling away. The move leaves Arthur feeling both bereft and relieved. The relief is stronger, which makes him feel sick at how pathetic and broken he is.

“It’s okay, Arthur.”

Alfred kisses his brow, and he wants to scream that it’s _not_ okay. There’s nothing okay about him being such a terrible boyfriend that he can’t even trust Alfred, who has only ever been kind to him, to not hurt him.

It _is_ a matter of trust. It’s disgusting that there are still parts of him that don’t trust Alfred—not to tell him about his pathetic childhood and not to let Alfred hold him for more than a few seconds at a time.

Alfred is persistent, though, and he still continues to ask to hold him, and Arthur keeps saying yes. He tries each time to focus more on how warm Alfred is, how the rhythmic beat of his heart speaks to how gentle and kind he is, how Alfred’s hold is always just loose enough that Arthur can escape if he wants to, and how—most importantly—Alfred never once hurts him.

It takes a while, but his focus gets better each time. Each time, he’s a little more aware of how _good_ it feels to be held and loved, and less aware of how he isn’t in complete control of the situation when he’s letting Alfred hold him.

Until one day, he’s lying with Alfred, wrapped up in each other, and he’s pinned between Alfred and the back of the sofa.

And they remain like that, with no panic or doubt or anything to make him want to leave. He wants to stay just where he is, and he feels…

He feels…

Happy isn’t the right word. It’s not the _wrong_ word, either, but it doesn’t really describe how he feels lying there with Alfred. As he listens to Alfred’s steady breathing, Arthur’s eyes widen as it occurs to him what is happening.

He feels _safe_.

The thought is a little bewildering. He doesn’t know if he’s ever felt like this before.

Now, there’s something so intensely comforting about lying there, trapped between Alfred and the sofa. Alfred’s heat and weight are soothing rather than suffocating, and everywhere Alfred touches as he lightly drags his fingers across Arthur’s back feels pleasantly hypersensitive.

He lowers his eyelids again and shifts closer, nuzzling slightly against Alfred’s collarbone and feeling a flush of pleasure and relief when Alfred responds by petting his hair.

 _It’s okay to enjoy this_ , he tells himself as he curls his fingers into Alfred’s shirt and breathes in deep. _It’s okay to want this._

Safety and trust are two concepts that seemed completely beyond his reach, but he has them there in Alfred’s arms. His eyes burn as he threatens to cry in relief that he can finally enjoy this simple act of affection.

He cuddles even closer, and it’s a long time before they let each other go.

When cuddling becomes a regular occurrence, and the panic never returns, Arthur is more than certain of what he is finally able to do.

“You don’t have to ask to hug me anymore. You can just do it if you want to.”

Alfred’s face brightens, but it’s quickly replaced with a skeptical frown. “What if _you_ don’t want to?”

“I’ll let you know if I don’t. I…” He pauses, carefully considering his words and what he’s giving Alfred permission to do. “…I trust you not to abuse this privilege.”

Alfred’s smile puts the sun to shame, and when Alfred hugs him, Arthur can feel the happiness and love that Alfred puts into the hug.

Despite what Arthur said, Alfred still continues to ask for permission, even if it’s silently by holding his arms out in an offer, until one day when Arthur is finishing up the dishwashing.

Alfred comes up behind him and wraps him into a light hug. Arthur doesn’t seize up or panic. There’s no urge to push Alfred away or wrench himself out of the hold. Instead, he closes his eyes and leans back into it, and Alfred kisses the side of his face and gently sways with him.


End file.
